She swept across the room and seated herself with her back to the window.  It was a queenly presence—­tall, graceful, and intensely womanly.  “Mr. Holmes,” she said—­and her white-gloved hands clasped and unclasped as she spoke—­“I will speak frankly to you in the hopes that it may induce you to speak frankly in return.  There is complete confidence between my husband and me on all matters save one.  That one is politics.  On this his lips are sealed.  He tells me nothing.  Now, I am aware that there was a most deplorable occurrence in our house last night.  I know that a paper has disappeared.  But because the matter is political my husband refuses to take me into his complete confidence.  Now it is essential—­essential, I say—­that I should thoroughly understand it.  You are the only other person, save only these politicians, who knows the true facts.  I beg you then, Mr. Holmes, to tell me exactly what has happened and what it will lead to.  Tell me all, Mr. Holmes.  Let no regard for your client’s interests keep you silent, for I assure you that his interests, if he would only see it, would be best served by taking me into his complete confidence.  What was this paper which was stolen?”

“Madam, what you ask me is really impossible.”

She groaned and sank her face in her hands.

“You must see that this is so, madam.  If your husband thinks fit to keep you in the dark over this matter, is it for me, who has only learned the true facts under the pledge of professional secrecy, to tell what he has withheld?  It is not fair to ask it.  It is him whom you must ask.”

“I have asked him.  I come to you as a last resource.  But without your telling me anything definite, Mr. Holmes, you may do a great service if you would enlighten me on one point.”

“What is it, madam?”

“Is my husband’s political career likely to suffer through this incident?”

“Well, madam, unless it is set right it may certainly have a very unfortunate effect.”

“Ah!” She drew in her breath sharply as one whose doubts are resolved.

“One more question, Mr. Holmes.  From an expression which my husband dropped in the first shock of this disaster I understood that terrible public consequences might arise from the loss of this document.”

“If he said so, I certainly cannot deny it.”

“Of what nature are they?”

“Nay, madam, there again you ask me more than I can possibly answer.”

“Then I will take up no more of your time.  I cannot blame you, Mr. Holmes, for having refused to speak more freely, and you on your side will not, I am sure, think the worse of me because I desire, even against his will, to share my husband’s anxieties.  Once more I beg that you will say nothing of my visit.”

She looked back at us from the door, and I had a last impression of that beautiful haunted face, the startled eyes, and the drawn mouth.  Then she was gone.